


Consequence

by The_Arkadian



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Consequences, Gen, OCs - Freeform, Voyeurism, and not telling the Commander, like visiting a Lich for high tea, what happens when you do really dumb shit, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21916171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Arkadian/pseuds/The_Arkadian
Summary: After a night of nightmares, Kaerlynn reflects on the consequences of her actions.
Relationships: Kaerlynn Winterdawn, Mihrfenur Blazefall





	1. Chapter 1

She awakened with a start; heart racing, her body sheathed in a cold sweat, a scream upon her lips. She spent some moments bringing her breathing back under control as she wrested her mind from the last fleeting fragments of the dream; only slowly did awareness of the unfamiliarity of the room dawn upon her. This was not her bedroom in the Winterdawn home.

Ah, yes. Mihrfenur had brought her here, to House Blazefall - this was one of the many rooms in the large mansion overlooking the sea. He had made sure she had all she needed, settled her into bed and then withdrawn to let her sleep.

She had expected nightmares, and received them in plenty. As she rose from the bed and made her way to the window to gaze out at the sea, her uneasy mind replayed them all to her - the Commander's face as she pronounced Astran's fate - the look in Astran's eyes as he walked past her. A calm acceptance of what was to come.

And in her dreams, she had seen all the ways in which things could have been so much worse. She shuddered as she remembered the feel of the lash; recalled the terror she had felt as the Spire re-educators strapped her down into a chair.

But worst of all was the dream she had just awakened from, in which Mihr had been delivered to her a broken thing - his mind gone, destroyed by the terrible mental scourging of a full Spire re-education.

She swallowed hard as she willed back her fears. None of that had happened, save the pronunciation of Astran's punishment - a punishment meted out for _her_ actions, in the main. In ordering Astran's partial re-education, the Commander had indirectly inflicted the worst punishment she could have chosen upon Kaerlynn herself. As the redhaired magistrix stared bleakly out at the grey waves, she knew she would always feel the guilt of this, no matter how much Astran himself had willingly take the blame. She had been deathly afraid that Mihrfenur would share that same fate.

Mihr.... Uneasiness still lay upon her like a heavy cloak. She found herself striding from the room, sending out her senses as she scryed - _there_ , the unmistakable touch of fel in the man's blood. Malevolent, feeding upon him from within, the first doses of the Lich's medicine not yet enough to begin driving it back and halting the damage as the fel slowly consumed the warlock from within. She followed the feel of that taint, her footsteps guided surely towards him.

He was sleeping. She halted at the threshold of the room. _What was she doing there?_ She had no right to invade his room like this! He had told her how he had been tempted to come to her room when last she had stayed and yet restrained himself - was she so weakwilled that she could not do the same?

And yet.... _Just a moment,_ she told herself. Just a look to reassure herself after the nightmare. She stole towards him on silent feet.

Mihrfenur lay upon his back, sprawled in deep slumber in the bed, oblivious to the silent intrusion. One hand rested upon his bare torso, the faint glow of the tattoos limning his fingers in a soft green glow. His other hand lay half-curled upon the pillow, half-nestled in the black curls that tumbled across the fine white linen. 

In sleep, Mihrfenur's face was relaxed, the lines of tension eased, making him appear more youthful than the centuries that lay upon him. As Kaerlynn drew closer, she gazed down upon him, and felt her own tension and fear easing.

A stray strand of hair lay across his forehead; without thinking, she leaned forward to tenderly brush it away with the light, delicate touch of her fingers. As she did so, he stirred; his eyes drifting open, glazed over with the sheen of actinic fel, his gaze unfocused as he stared through her, unseeing. Then they drifted closed again as he turned his face away with a faint, half-articulated groan, sinking back down into dreamless sleep.

She backed away, ashamed at having intruded upon his sleep - a ghostly voyeur in a borrowed nightgown.

Mihrfenur slept on, oblivious, as Kaerlynn hurried back to her room to wrestle once more with her conscience over the consequences of what she had done.


	2. Chapter 2

She sat upon the end of the bed and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Lifting her hands, she slowly removed the pins that held her hair in place, letting each one fall to the carpet one by one as slowly, her long hair fell down until it spilled over her shoulders and pooled around her upon the bed; crimson, like blood.

It seemed appropriate, somehow; her hair bathing her in blood - to match the stains upon her hands, perhaps.

She stared down at her hands - far too clean for the pain she had wrought. She turned her hands over, and stared at the brilliant gemstone set in the ring upon her left hand.

She lifted her eyes to stare at herself in the mirror; at the fel green of her eyes. They were blue once; when had they taken on the sickly green hue, that unnatural glow? Not quite as strong as the felfire that bled from Mihrfenur’s intense gaze - but there, nonetheless, obscuring her eyes’ natural hue.

She could still see him in her mind’s eye - the look in his face as he held himself there. A maelstrom trapped inside the form of a sin’dorei man.

A distant scream rang out, echoing through the empty halls, shattering the silence. It was rage, anger, pain; it was loss, denial, and raw, animal _want_. She flinched; even before the scream died away into silence, she was on her feet and halfway down the hall before she checked herself. There was danger in the air - undefined, nebulous and brooding. She retreated back to her room and crept into the bed. She curled up into a ball between the cold sheets, and shivered.

She closed her eyes; thought of Astran and the agonies he must be going through in the hands of the priests. His mind shattered and put back together again - all under the name of “re-education”. A bland name for a barbaric practice. She thought of Summer - brother in all but name, Astran’s adopted son - and the look on his face as she’d told him what she’d done. Forgiveness. She didn’t deserve him. Didn’t deserve any of them. 

And now she was the cause of Mihrfenur’s pain. 

She gazed into the darkness, until finally sleep overtook her.


	3. Chapter 3

She returns alone to the city, a day later. Her face is calm, composed; inside, she is now verging upon emotional exhaustion. 

In the space of only a few days, she has veered between ecstatic and despairing, overjoyed and terrified so often that now, there is only something close to a grey numbness. Even the parting kiss from Mihrfenur and the promise she will see him again soon would at this point only elicit a wan smile, were she not so stoicly projecting quiet sereneness as she rides toward her family estate.

She dispels the arcane mount once safely through the gates, then murmurs the words of an invisibility spell. She cannot face questions from her mother right now; she hasn't the energy to lie - but she knows only too well that Mihr will be expected to request permission to court her before her mother will hear his name without questioning the fond note in her voice -

And once he _has_... then Kaerlynn will not be allowed unchaperoned in his company again - either by her mother, a guard of her choosing - or by the rest of their unit, effectively, when on missions with Blazing Phoenix. Her mother would be scandalised if she knew that Kaer has her own room in his home now - in fact, half of sin’dorei noble society would, come to that. 

She ghosts up the stairs to her own suite of rooms, and wonders how long before someone makes the first attempt to blackmail Mihr. She almost wishes she could be there, a fly on the wall, to see that. She wonders if Mihr would tell her afterwards - or if he would keep silent for fear of what she might say or think.

And what will she do when someone attempts to blackmail _her_? She sighs, and locks the door to her suite before throwing up strong wards to keep any intruders out... and any sounds _in_.

Her only defence will be to be purer than driven snow. Her reputation for being wedded to her books and her studies will stand her in good stead there - but her chasteness and virtue must be beyond reproof.

And if they attempt to blackmail Mihr by threatening to expose her...?

Frankly the Void would have more mercy than Mihrfenur Blazefall will upon such a person. 

She has no desire to be the eavesdropping fly for _that_ encounter. She shudders.

She strips out of her black brocade gown and slips into a silk wrap before moving to the bathroom to run herself a bath. Unpinning her hair, she adds a few drops of her favourite scented oil to the water, adjusting the temperature of the water flowing from the enchanted taps until it is just perfect. Then she slips out of the silk wrap and steps down into the steaming water.

And finally, the numbness starts to recede - and there, in solitude, she feels it all starting to bleed back through again. Mihrfenur triumphing in the Winterveil brawling contest in Winterspring against Dagorn and others. Telling her of his feelings. The next night, confessing to her that the fel in his blood was killing him, and asking her to go with him to face O’sun the Lich to claim the promised cure.

Facing the Lich - calm, diplomatic, allowing Mihr to do the talking - until Mihr grew frustrated, and she felt the unmistakable feel of the Lich drawing his power to himself - and she had stepped between them, faced O’sun down, fully prepared to bring the Lich’s tower down about his very ears in her righteous fury. They took the precious vials, and then she had brought them safely back to Silvermoon.

And then bringing her final report to the Commander... and the dreadful fall-out from that, with Astran paying the price - and, in turn, Summer, his sweet adopted son - who had forgiven her, nontheless.

And then Mihr’s screams in the night, and -

And she buries her face in her hands as she lets go, finally seeks surcease in the tears she has been denying herself as there has been one emotional revelation after another, utterly exhausted at the last.

It is only the realisation that she is shivering, the water grown long since cold, that has her rising from the bath and reaching for a towel. Drying herself, she slips into another, lighter silk dressing gown, and dispels the wards upon the window enough to open it for air. She gazes out at the stars over Silvermoon, then moves to the dressing table. Selecting a small square bottle from a tray, she pours herself a half glassful of a dark green liquid, topping it up with wine.

She downs it swiftly, ignoring the bitterness of the taste, then moves to the bed. Her eyes already feel heavy; the draught should keep her deeply and dreamlessly asleep for hours.

This night, she wants no dreams.


End file.
